Bottled Up
Bottled up
I am fighting this battle all alone
Doctor prescribing me pills
To control the thoughts
I feel like less of me
Everyday
Fading
Holding on to this bottle
Being bottled up
Withholding
Me
From being
Free
I cry
No tears
Flow out
I am out
Of feelings
I hit the table
Now my hand hurts
A new pain
Pain I am getting used to
Like a pair of old jeans
My life does not fit
Trying old new shells
To disguise myself
From the man in the mirror
What a judgmental prick
Copyright © Honcho Mars | Year Posted 2014
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